A New Door Opens
by Little Miss Banana
Summary: Something different happens in the chamber of secrets, and Harry finds himself flung into the past... where he meets his father. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Prologue

**A New Door Opens**

Disclaimer: This is the only disclaimer for the whole story. I don't own Harry Potter. Jk Rowling owns everything.

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Prologue

Harry choked, "You? You're - you're Voldemort?" His head spun with the realisation. "How? Voldemort- he was after your time."

The apparition of the dark headed teenager grew stronger, "oh, dear little Harry." He mocked, "Voldemort is my past, present and future."

Harry blinked, "You're what, seventeen? You went and trapped yourself in a diary, that doesn't seem like the thing an evil wizard would do. You're not really that smart, are you?"

Riddle smirked, "You've got quite the mouth on you." His tone was light, jesting, but it had an undercurrent of darkness that made shivers run up Harry's spine. "You think I didn't have reason for it? I'm the greatest wizard of this age!"

Harry scoffed, his anger growing, "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of this age! You're nothing compared to him!" He opened his mouth to say more, but his lips were sealed together. He tried to scream, but it came out as a strangled squeal at the back of his throat. He stared desperately at Riddle, his eyes filling with tears. The strangest emotion seemed to flicker across the older boy's face before disappearing, almost sadness. Maybe the young Voldemort-to-be wasn't a murderous psychopath. Yet.

With a casual flick of the stolen wand, the twelve-year-old found himself able to speak. "Give me my wand, Tom."

The young Tom Riddle's eyes drilled through him. "I'm not so sure." He murmured, almost to himself. "I don't think you'll be needing it."

Harry spared a glance to the red-headed eleven-year-old girl lying on the floor, and spoke, his teeth clenched. "If you have a heart, Riddle," he spat the name. "You will give me my wand. Now."

Riddle turned, his blazing eyes now fixated on the stone snake head, "I, heir of Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four, demand you to attack the boy who lived." His Parseltongue was brutal and clipped, his tone mocking.

A strange hissing filled the chamber, echoing in Harry's ears. An enormous scaly head appeared in the mouth of the stone serpent, and Harry clamped his eyes shut hard. "Stop!" He cried. The slithering stopped for a moment, the Basilisk unsure of which command to follow.

"Fool!" Riddle hissed, "He only obeys me!"

The slithering recommenced, and Harry turned on his heel and fled, blind, in the opposite direction of the giant snake.

"Run! Run, Potter. Run all you can! My snake will find you." Riddle laughed, not the high cackle that Harry remembered from his first year, but a laugh you would expect an ordinary seventeen year old to have. It scared him.

A screech from overhead stopped Harry in his flight, the Basilisk let out an agonizing roar. Harry cautiously opened one eyes. Fawkes dropped some sort of rags to the floor, and started digging his claws into the snakes eyes. The basilisk let out a roar of agony, blood streaming from its eye sockets.

"No!" Riddle cried, and then, "My Basilisk may be blind, but he can still hear you!" His tone was menacing.

Harry started running again, this time with a sense of direction. He sprinted through the narrow passageways, fully aware of the giant serpent following him. His stumbled as his legs flew out from beneath him and he skidded as his body hit the floor.

The snake reared up behind him. It knew where he was, and it was going to attack him. The twelve-year-old closed his eyes, curling into himself. The snake was going to bite him, it was going to poison him, rip him to pieces…

"_Enough_." Someone spoke. Harry opened his eyes. Riddle leaned over him, as he trembled on the ground. "Pathetic." He sneered, no longer speaking Parseltongue. "This is what the young hero has been reduced to?"

Harry leapt to his feet, "I hate you!" He yelled, far past caring that Riddle had saved his life. "I. Hate. You."

Riddle caught Harry by the collar, dragging him forward, "I could have let you die." He snarled, "I wouldn't have felt guilty, I wouldn't have cared. You're lucky I spared you."

"Why did you?" Harry asked, fear giving way to childish curiosity, "Why didn't you kill me?"

A twisted expression found its way around Riddle's features, contorting his face into some sort of scowl, "I don't know." He said. He did, Harry thought, he knew more than he was letting on.

"What are you going to do to me?" Harry asked, he wasn't really scared anymore, just confused.

Riddle looked contemplatively at Harry, "I found this spell, in my day." He murmured, "I've never had the chance to use it, or at least I haven't."

Harry frowned, whatever this spell was, had Voldemort used it? He grimaced as he realised that he was separating Riddle with the existing Voldemort. But this Voldemort seemed calmer, almost more compassionate that the version that killed his parents.

Riddle smirked to himself, and Harry was, oddly, reminded of Draco Malfoy, "I think, Harry, this is the _perfect_ opportunity."

Harry's eyes widened and he stepped back, into the main body of the chamber. He hadn't even realised that they had been walking the entire time they were talking. He winced at that. He had been chatting to the murderer of his parents, but... Riddle hadn't killed his parents, had he? Because he was from before Harry's parents had been born. He caught sight of a flash of red hair, and he flinched guiltily, he had forgotten Ginny. He had, of course, been preoccupied with his possible death, but still…. how _could_ he forget her?

Riddle's eyes followed his line of vision, "The Weasley?" He sounded amused, "Don't worry about her."

"What are you going to do to her?" Harry pressed.

"Nothing you need to worry about. This dimension will be collapsing, after all."

"What?" Harry gasped, startled. "What are you talking about?"

Riddle suddenly flicked the wand at him. Harry cried out in horror as he found the ground growing closer. "What did you do?" He demanded, in his new, younger voice. He felt younger too- surely Riddle hadn't….

"De-aging charm, modified of course. Can't have you popping back up to almost-thirteen again can we, well, disregarding the fact that you will grow." Riddle smirked, "You were a very small ten-year-old."

Harry's bottom lip quivered, before bit down on it. He wasn't a baby. He was most likely almost eleven, anyway.

"I'd estimate around just turned ten. I'm sure you'll pass as a first year."

"What's happening?" Harry cried, "I don't understand." He really didn't, he closed his eyes.

"You don't have to." Riddle said, "But you mustn't speak of this to anyone, understand?"

When Harry didn't respond, he pointed the wand threateningly. "Understand?" He asked quietly.

Harry nodded quickly.

"Good," Riddle nodded, "Stand there. Don't move." He pointed the wand at Harry, murmuring something too faint for him to hear. Harry stared at the rush of blue light, closing his eyes only seconds before he felt the full impact of the spell. He felt himself thrown into the air, before falling.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry crashed into a floor of hard, dry stone.

Wait... dry?

He opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He still seemed to be in Hogwarts, with its towering walls, but nobody was around. It seemed almost deserted. He wasn't completely familiar with this part of the castle, he realised, or at least, it was different from when he last saw it.

He got to his feet. Wherever he was, he needed to find Professor Dumbledore. He turned down another corridor, then, as the unfamiliarity of the situation dawned on him, he started to sprint. He wasn't as fast, he realised with annoyance, in this body. His shorter legs could not take as large strides. He was smaller and more agile though, and therefore quicker at darting round corners.

He wasn't looking where he was going and soon he found himself crashing into something hard and tall. He glanced up widening his eyes when he realised who he had run into was actually a person.

The boy, who was maybe a sixth year, studied him curiously. "Who are you?" He asked, "You're wearing Gryffindor robes, but I'm sure I've never seen you before."

Harry jumped to his feet, he'd never seen this boy before either, but wasn't about to dwell on it. He frowned, realising with dismay that he really was about four and a half feet tall. "I'm Harry, and I really need to see Professor Dumbledore please." He said this all in one breath.

The boy looked a little startled, before grinning. "Sure kid. What's your name?" he started walking.

Harry had to jog a little to keep up, and the boy slowed his pace. "Harry," he said. He figured that wherever Riddle had sent him, he wouldn't be there. Why would Riddle send him somewhere he already was? It wouldn't matter that he used his name. "Harry Potter."

The boy stopped, "Potter?" he asked, "Are you sure about that?" His brow creased with confusion, and maybe a little worry.

Harry nodded, "Yes, why?"

"No reason," The boy muttered. "Say, how old are you?"

"I'm-" He paused. How old was he? Riddle had said he was ten, but no first years were younger than eleven.

"Yes?" The boy was clearly expecting an answer.

"I'm not sure." There, he said it.

"How can you not be sure?"

"I'm ten." Harry made a snap decision. He perked up when he saw the familiar griffin which guarded the headmaster's office.

"Lemon bonbons." The boy said the password, and the griffin turned to reveal a staircase. "After you."

Harry stepped onto the first stair, and started climbing as the stone rose. The boy had stepped on behind him, and he soon found himself outside the door of the office. The boy moved further forward, in front of him, and knocked loudly on the old wood.

"Come in." A pleasant voice called, and the boy twisted the knob of the door. It swung open almost ominously, and Harry had to remind himself that he had been there before, and that Dumbledore was a rather nice old man.

He walked into the room, and as soon as he did so, the headmaster rose from his seat.

" Ah," he said. His bright blue eyes were twinkling, and a smile lit up his wizened face. Harry relaxed immediately. This was Dumbledore.

"Remus, would you mind stepping outside for a moment?"

The boy, who Harry realised must be called Remus, hesitated, "Sir, he says his name is Potter."

Dumbledore frowned, his eyes drilling into Harry's, "Thank you, Mr Lupin." He said, kindly, and Remus nodded his head and turned to close the door behind him.

"Mr Potter, take a seat." Dumbledore indicated a rather plump armchair across from his desk. Harry perched in it uncertainly.

"Don't worry my boy," The old man peered at him from his half moon spectacles. "You are not in trouble, or at least, I hope not." He rested his arms lightly on the desk. "Now, would you mind telling me your full name? Middle name included perhaps, to be thorough?"

"I'm Harry," Harry said quietly, "Harry James Potter."

"Ah." The old Professor said again, this time with a much quieter tone. " Now, would you mind telling me how you got here?"

Harry launched into the story, about the chamber of secrets and about Riddle, and Ginny, and the spell that made him younger, and the strange blue light. He told him about the scar on his forehead, and how it happened.

"Blue light?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded.

"Perhaps you would be able to tell me what year it is?" Dumbledore asked, lightly.

"1993."

"That, my boy is where you are wrong. The year now is 1976, soon to be '77."


End file.
